Where Do I Sign?
by Iridian's Legacy
Summary: "I want to help you, Esther Carols! We have found ourselves in the extraordinary predicament where we are both in need of something. You need shelter from the oncoming storm, for all the dirt to be swept under the rug. I need something, too!" (Human!BillCipher and quite a few OCs. No longer a one-shot. Rating has changed to T for mild violence.)
1. Chapter 1

**[AN]: Enjoy!**

 **I don't own Gravity Falls, I own Esther Carols, yadayada pfft.**

* * *

Gravity Falls in the summer was crisp and serene. Its night skies shone with sugar stars and the fireflies danced with tiny torches, played their silent songs. In the distance, the falls crashed against rock like God's hands playing stone drums to call forth the twilight; pines freshened the air.

Esther ran, far and fast. To her chest she pressed a sheet of paper. Its edges whipped in the wind she created with each blind step down the slick stone avenue. The cool air scratched her throat, burned her lungs, but she was indifferent to the ache in her chest and legs.

Down the street she ran, this ever familiar road where her friends lived, where she rode bikes and met schoolmates after finishing her homework. The cobblestones had long since risen to create a disagreeable surface for cars, but the road was as flat as a freshly paved highway beneath Esther's feet.

The privacy and solace of the woods lay ahead. Behind, a howl of voices and calls for a girl named Esther.

She crossed the threshold of the forest, letting the pines and oaks swallow her. Her dark hair caught in a branch and she gasped, the noise too loud in the stillness, but the branch ran through and let loose. A quarter of a mile in, she finally began to register the burning in her calves. Her vision swirled, the silhouettes of stumps and trees blurring into one greasy black mess around her.

Esther threw herself down on a large boulder, wet from the recent rain. The cold water soaked through her jeans.

In the privacy of the woods, she sobbed heavily, hideously, shamelessly. She cried until her throat hurt and she felt sick to her stomach, all while clutching that piece of paper. The sleeves of her hoodie were soaked by the time she caught her breath and the paper was crumpled in the middle.

With trembling fingers, Esther read the note once more, memorizing each horribly poisonous word until they flashed red and gold behind her eyes.

 _This can't be happening,_ she prayed. _Please, don't let this be real._

The moonlight poured from the stretching canopy above to illuminate the bone-white parchment. The words were real. This was happening.

Esther sniffed, sliding to the ground with her back against the stone. The cold water wet her hoodie now. She didn't care. She was content to stay here until sunrise—no, forever. In the woods, things were different. In the woods, she was far from cares and anxieties, conflict and reality. Here she could stay until she died.

But Esther had perverted the peace of the forest by bringing this note with her. This note meant that she would be leaving Gravity Falls, never to return. It meant that her family—close and extended—would be shamed and torn apart by ugly truths and scandals. No Stanford, no Harvard. All of her hard work would be for nothing and she would have nowhere to go where the name 'Carols' was not known.

Esther pulled her knees to her chest. This note meant that she would never have a chance at a normal life, college, or entrepreneurship, like she had always dreamed. And now its words were red and gold against the night's silvery backdrop, seared into the precious skin of her vast wilderness. Adulterated.

A twig snapped shrilly somewhere close by. She whirled around with acid coating her tongue, searching for the midnight beast that stalked her. Her evergreen fortress was neither impenetrable nor private. In her upset, Esther had failed to pay mind to the furry killers that owned this land. She scanned the area, watching for glinting eyes or large masses with shoulders and a head full of teeth. She suddenly remembered articles about missing hikers and destroyed campsites, mangled corpses and skeletons licked clean.

She rose slowly from the leaves, heart pounding. _Don't freak out,_ she reminded herself. _Don't panic. It could be nothing. Best get out of here soon, though._ As she got to her feet she turned to look over the boulder, finding nothing in the moonlit wild. She took a deep breath to calm herself, inhaling the sweet sap fragrance, and found that peace was returning to her in slow, tiny waves.

"What's got you all jumpy, doll?"

Esther squawked and turned towards the alien voice, losing her balance on a root that couldn't have been there before, and toppled back onto the slick boulder. The hairs at the nape of her neck bristled.

The man dressed in a yellow—no, gold—a golden coattail suit and black tie had asked the question. His gloved hands, one over the other, clutched a sleek black cane in front of him. Esther struggled not to stare, but a single amber eye peeked out from beneath his shaggy blond bangs, shaded by the rim of a top hat. Single, because where his right eye should have been was a triangular eye patch.

Esther flung herself behind the boulder and stared, wide-eyed, terrified. Where had he _come_ from? "Who are you?" she demanded. Her voice was croaky from crying.

The man pointed a finger at her, chuckling, like she'd just made a joke. "Good one! The old 'who are you and what do you want' line! Classic."

The man's voice was…incredibly unique. He had to have been throwing his voice, faking it for some reason. There was no way that nasally drawl was real.

"But since we both have questions in need of answering, how 'bout an answer for an answer, hm? Sound reasonable, doll?" He raised his only eyebrow.

Esther studied the freak with the cane who wanted to play games. He reminded her of some carnie conman that called loudly for people to enter his tent for a game of chance. He was something out of a story, a ghost from a children's book with a cat-like disposition.

She had absolutely no idea what to say. He'd caught her so off guard and, not only that, he'd called out her next move—to ask what he wanted. So Esther blurted out the next best thing: "Go away."

"Rude," the man mumbled. "Look, doll, there's clearly a level of trust that needs to be established here. I forget that some people aren't as trusting as I am." He took a step forward, using his cane as a prop rather than a crutch, and Esther took a step back. " _Definitely_ not as trusting as I am," he added.

Esther fumed. "Well _excuse me_ ," she exploded, forgetting herself. "If I'm a little flustered! I mean, _some_ _guy_ sneaks up on me in the woods and expects to be my best friend?"

He laughed—a sharp blast. "Fair point, doll, but—"

" _Don't_ call me 'doll.'"

Something close to anger flashed across the man's face, dousing Esther's fire. She wasn't angry or startled anymore. She was scared.

But the man started laughing again, and she realized that what she had seen was some form of…amusement? "What else am I gonna call ya? 'Pine tree?' That's already taken." He went into a soft fit of giggles. He was clearly an escaped mental patient who had found a dress-up trunk.

She had to get out of here fast.

"Right…well, it was nice meeting you, um…"

The man tipped his top hat gracefully, exposing his sandy mat of hair. His lips spread into a devilish smile. "Cipher. Bill Cipher, doll. But you can call me the greatest thing that's about to happen to you!"

Esther blinked. "Excuse me?"

Bill Cipher returned his hat to his head and stood tall. "Well, to your family, that is. That whole answer-for-an-answer thing was really just a nicety. See, you've got _your_ answer—my name—and I had _my_ answer before I even asked the question." He smirked. "'What's got you all jumpy, _doll_?'"

A thousand thoughts swarmed in Esther's cortex, a grey matter froth of confusion, fear, and curiosity. Her brain choked on the man's words. The night air felt abruptly chilly. She backed away, prepared to run for it. "Look, I'm sorry. I have no idea what you're saying and I really have to get going—"

"Marcus Towers."

A silence passed, pregnant with tip-of-the-tongue questions and clenched jaws, knowing stares and tortured thoughts. "What about him?" Esther finally asked, locking her green eyes on Bill. He stared right back.

Bill shrugged. "Oh, the name just came to mind. Read an article 'bout him the other day that said he was the third richest man in the world as of March this year." Esther stiffened, and she knew Bill had noticed. "It also said that he has donated a total of twenty billion to charity, earning him the Humanitarian Award and a 65% popularity rating. Not bad, eh?"

"Guess so. He seems like a great guy."

"Ha!" Bill shoved a finger at her, eye alight. "You filthy rotten liar! You hate his guts! You want to see him hung out to dry from the window of his penthouse!"

"What?" Esther had always been a bad liar. It's why she never cheated in school. "You're crazy!"

Bill laughed. "So? You're a liar, Esther Carols."

She gasped. "How do you know my name? Wait, never mind. I'm leaving. You're crazy!" She turned to the edge of the forest and bolted.

Two yards in, something shot out from behind a tree and nailed her in the stomach, something slender and dark that knocked the wind out of her. Esther doubled over on her knees, coughing and hugging her ribcage. Past her curtain of chestnut hair she watched two polished shoes and the end of a cane appear.

"'Crazy' ain't synonymous with 'wrong', doll," Bill clarified. "Sorry 'bout the blow—it was the fastest way to get you to stop."

Esther was close to tears, and not because of the hit. She was terrified. First this guy sneaks up on her without so much as making a sound, then he starts talking nonsense about dolls and trees and billionaires and sounding like a loon.

Now teleportation? Magic? Whatever it was, it was unnatural and scaring her stiff.

She shuffled back in the dirt, kicking at him with worn sneakers, sniffling back tears. "Who are you? What do you want?" She didn't care how broken she sounded, or cliché.

"You're asking the wrong questions, doll," said Bill. He snapped his fingers and Esther found herself rising from the ground and being placed gently on her feet by invisible hands, as careful as her father's.

Her mind raced. She was sure she was hyperventilating, but between tearful gasps she breathed, " _What_ are you?"

Bill's mouth stretched into a signature Cheshire smile, and Esther realized for the first time that he seemed to emanate his own light source, a soft golden glow. " _Now_ you've got it."

"All you gotta do is start asking the right questions and the whole world falls into place, huh?" Bill began to pace slowly and casually in a circle around Esther, but with each step he seemed to grow. He was flying! Bill Cipher was ascending an invisible winding staircase! Esther began to realize that she hadn't avoided the wolves of Gravity Falls after all.

 _A magician_. "What do you want, Mr. Cipher?" she asked, hating the weakness in her voice.

"Pshaw, 'Mr. Cipher' is for a later time. Call me Bill, hun!"

"Please, I just want to get back home."

"Another lie," he said with a flourish of his cane from above. "You wouldn't have run in the first place if _home_ was where you wanted to be! You always this untruthful, doll?"

Esther shouted, " _Stop_ calling me that!"

Bill ignored her. "You're scared. That note in your pocket just ruined your life and your family and their legacy. 'Towers' is the name to fear every waking moment and every step you take belongs to him and the Towers household." He paused to ensure that Esther was listening. "You're desperate, and I'd bet someone else's right arm that you'd be willing to do anything to save your family from their inevitable disgrace, but more importantly, you're ready to put your own neck on the line to save your own future."

Esther glared at him. "I don't know how you know all of this, but it's none of your business! And if you're implying that I'm selfish and self-centered then you're a true _moron_. Marcus Towers doesn't care about anyone or anything but himself and his money, so how dare you—"

"Oh don't get so dramatic, Carols, I'm just leading up to the meat of the matter." Bill pulled out a gold pocket watch from his brick patterned vest and glanced at it. He crossed his legs Indian style, midair. "Usually I cut straight to the chase but I've enjoyed our little banter! Also: not a moron. I _did_ just kind of blow your mind with my extensive knowledge of this whole ordeal."

Esther threw her hands up and shook her head. "What are you even _talking_ about? What do you even _want_?"

Immediately Bill was inches from her, almost nose to nose and feet firm on the ground again. "I want to help you, Esther Carols! We have found ourselves in the extraordinary predicament where we are both in need of something. You need shelter from the oncoming storm, for all the dirt to be swept under the rug. _I_ need something, too!"

As much as Esther wanted to back away from Bill, the well-dressed lunatic, she held her ground. Gritting her teeth helped, as did focusing on his words rather than the unlikely scent of sugar. "What do you need?" she asked.

"A favor!" He threw himself back into the air and beamed like a child.

"A favor?" That couldn't be good. "What kind of favor?"

Bill shrugged. "Dunno yet, but I'm sure it'll be handy when I do!"

It all clicked. "You want me to _owe_ you a favor. And when you need it you expect me to drop everything and do it for you because—"

"Because I'm about to save your skin! Simple, easy and fair! Glad to see you're catching on." With a soft _swoosh_ he dropped to hover so he was level with Esther and whispered, "What do you say? How's about a deal, doll?"

The sound of her own heartbeat boomed in her ears. Everything this man was saying, what he was promising, all seemed too good to be true, but something was wrong. Maybe it was the fact that she was conversing with a one-eyed magician who knew absolutely everything about her life and it all seemed just a tad too story-like to be real. Maybe it was the shock from her life falling apart and being pieced back together again in a matter of an hour that was giving her a sick feeling in her gut. The odds were that what smelled fishy was the gleam in Bill Cipher's amber eye and his eagerness to swap good deeds.

Nevertheless, she mulled over Bill's words. He had called her selfish. He had practically said that she was more willing to die for her own future than the welfare of her family. Esther had always considered herself a mostly selfless person—she loved her family and would do absolutely anything for them. But when it came down to it, she guessed, her dreams of Harvard or Princeton would end up carrying her away from her family, and she had realized that long ago, even comes to terms with it. Esther Carols was more than prepared to turn her back on everything and everyone she knew to achieve success.

Even after all they had done for her…

Bill "sat" patiently and waited for her to answer, watching the gears turn behind her eyes. He had shown more than enough evidence that he was an extraordinary being, capable of things that only existed in fiction and myths. Who's to say he couldn't fix the mess her family was in?

And besides, if he didn't follow through, if he was a phony, she naturally didn't owe him a dime.

"Why should I trust you?" The question came out before she could swallow it.

Bill put a hand to his heart. "After all we've been through… Nah, I'm kidding. You have absolutely no reason to trust me, doll, other than the fact that you can't afford to do anything but!"

The answer caught her off guard. Someone who wasn't to be trusted would have insisted that they _could_ be trusted, right?

One of Bill's gloved fingers tapped impatiently against his knee. "Okay, look, I understand the predicament you're in, but it's not like I have nowhere to be." He pulled out his watch again and returned it swiftly. "I'm actually quite busy so if you'd please…"

Esther took a deep breath. What was there to lose? It was time for Esther Carols to sacrifice something for the people she cared about. "What are the terms?"

Bill flashed white teeth. "Now we're talking!" He snapped his fingers. A floating contract appeared next to him. "Alright, since terminology is important in these matters, I'll review officially: 'I, Bill Cipher, offer an opportunity for the threats inscribed on the note in Esther Carols' pocket to be lifted in exchange for a single favor that can be redeemed at any point in time despite the nature or severity of said favor.'"

It unsettled Esther a little that Bill never once looked at the yellow-tinged contract, as did that last part about 'the nature or severity' of whatever favor Bill didn't know about yet. Everything else appeared to be in order, though.

"Sounds good," Esther confirmed. "Where do I sign?"

Bill made a _pfft_ noise with his teeth. " _Signatures_ are so overrated. There's nothing sincere in scribbling on a piece of paper, even in blood!" He exploded with violent laughter. There were more than a couple screws loose with this one.

"What then?"

Bill caught his breath and righted himself in the air. "A good old fashioned handshake will suffice, doll, nothing more!" He thrust out his right hand. "Do we have a deal?"

Esther gazed at the hand, noticing for the first time a ring on Cipher's middle finger with a round, blue gem set at the head. While the gem was smooth and plain, tiny symbols—triangles, stars, elegant curves—encircled it and wrapped around the band. Somehow, she decided it suited him.

Just like Harvard was going to suit her.

"Deal." Esther slapped her hand into Bill's and immediately a light blue fire erupted around the shake. She screamed and tried to pull back but Bill held fast while he laughed, "Totally normal; completely harmless!"

The fire bathed the forest around them in a pale blue glow, growing brighter by the second. An ache swelled throughout Esther's whole body, like the weakening soreness that comes with the flu. She moaned and dropped to her knees, unable to stay standing.

She fought her eyelids against fluttering shut. Just before she surrendered, Bill Cipher yanked her close so they were eye to eye, and she swore it glowed as he whispered, "Pleasure doing business with you, doll."

* * *

The familiar fluff of Esther's pillow was the first thing she felt when her alarm buzzed at 8 the next morning. The light might as well have socked her with a brick for the massive headache it gave her. She moaned into her pillow and rubbed her temples.

And that's when she remembered. All of it. The note, the woods, the deal, everything. The magician Bill Cipher who had promised to save her, to save her family.

There wasn't any chance that it had all been a dream, right? Including the note?

Esther sat up, ignoring her pulsing head, and watched the covers fall to reveal her filthy jeans and red hoodie. Even her shoes were still on. She smelled like trees and dirt.

Not a dream.

 _Okay_ , Esther thought. _If all of that was real…and that handshake was_ definitely _real—I'm still sore…then we're all good right? Everything's hunky dory?_

After a relaxing and much needed shower, Esther emerged into the living room where her mother was gripping a steaming cup of coffee. She could hear her dad clanking dishes in the kitchen. He cleaned when he was nervous.

Taking a deep breath and conjuring a smile, Esther waltzed in, pretending that it was another peaceful summer morning. "Morning, mom!"

Mrs. Carols tore her gaze from the wall and met her daughter's eyes. "Sweetie." Her voice and hands trembled. She quickly set her coffee down and asked, "How are you feeling?" A pot crashed into the sink in the other room. A shuffle of steps and Mr. Carols was in the doorway, still in his dressing gown. He had dark circles under his eyes. "Honey! How are you?"

"I'm doing fine," Esther answered calmly. "And you two? You don't look like you got much sleep, dad."

"Neither of us did," said Mrs. Carols. "How could we?"

"Have you given thought to the offer?" Esther's dad asked. She could tell he was trying to stay collected. Exasperation brimmed at his eyes.

Esther frowned. "Offer? What offer?"

Her parents looked at one another. "Mr. Towers' offer, sweetheart. Don't you remember?"

She took a deep breath. "Last night is…a little hazy at the moment. What's going on?"

Her mother was on the verge of tears. "We're in trouble. Mr. Towers has threatened to—"

"I know the threats," Esther quickly said. The more they said it, the more their nightmares became a reality. "What was the offer?"

Mrs. Carols began to weep, seeking solace in her husband's arms. He continued, "Marcus has offered to wipe away everything—the debt, the under the table deals, _everything_ —if…" he swallowed. "If you marry Nathan. Our money goes into the Towers pot, like one big payment. It's a whole lot of old money/new money garbage, but he's willing to forget everything if we…"

Esther finished. "If we give him everything."

* * *

Through the haze and blinding sun Esther could spot the boulder ahead. The note was back in her hands, but the writing on it was different than it had been only hours before. It crumpled in her fist.

She checked that the coast was clear and cupped her hands around her mouth. "Cipher! Bill Cipher! If you're there, show yourself!"

Only her echoed words answered back before fading into the distance. She threw her fist in the air, holding the note. " _This_ was not our deal! You promised to fix this, you _swine_!"

Silence.

Fury rose in her throat and she screamed. "Come out, you _coward_!"

A wind raced through the pines, ushering in dark clouds that turned the morning as black as night. Deafening thunder spliced with jagged angles of blue lightning above the mad swaying and creaking of the forest. Esther crouched behind the rock and covered her ears, looking in all directions for a man in a gold suit with one eye.

As if on cue, a crack like a falling branch rang above her, and Esther looked up to see a flash of white light flatten into the casual form of Bill Cipher, who flew horizontally with his head resting on one bent arm. The world seemed to go black and white, as if frozen in time.

"I thought I heard my name being called! I didn't even give you my number or anything! Weird how that works, huh? Almost like it's destiny!"

" _You_!" Esther shrieked.

"Yeah, me! Don't sound so surprised! _You_ called _me_ , after all!"

"You broke our deal!"

Bill shot up, wide-eyed. "Whoa, whoa, _whoa_! Slow down there, doll!"

"No! I won't!" Esther threw the crushed paper at Bill with all her might. He floated out of the way swiftly. "You said you would fix everything! You said you would get rid of all the threats on that note, and you lied! Now I have an _ultimatum_? _Marriage_? To a man who's worse than his _father_? In what world is that better than what would have happened?"

Bill grinned to himself. "Actually, quite a few. In other worlds the price is much higher—"

Esther exploded. "Enough! Enough of your rambling! You're insane! The point is that you swindled me!"

Bill puffed his chest. "No, I didn't 'swindle' you, kid. You just didn't read the fine print." With yet another snap of his fingers, the contract reappeared in front of her and Bill recited, "'I, Bill Cipher, _offer an opportunity_ for the threats inscribed on the note in Esther Carols' pocket to be lifted in exchange for a single favor,' yada yada, blah blah blah. There was diddly squat about all of your problems going _poof_. The world just doesn't work that way, believe it or not. No no no—I _forged_ a way for you to avoid Towers' threats all while maintaining your family's public reputation…at a price. Still, there's no humiliation, and there's no danger."

Esther's face went numb.

"It's all there in black and yellow, pal." There was a smile in his voice. "You got your backdoor out of degradation and ruin, and I've got my future favor to look forward to." He flexed his fingers. "I _love_ surprises!"

"This…" She was going to say 'this isn't right' but the words fell away. She looked up at him. "This isn't what I wanted."

Bill's indifferent shrug made Esther want to cry. "It's what you agreed to and…" Blue flames engulfed his right hand. "It's what you shook to."

Anything Esther could have said caught in her throat. He was right. As much as it pained her, Bill Cipher was right. What he had planned had _literally_ been right there in front of her, _read_ to her, and she was so eager to have her problems solved at the drop of a hat that she couldn't recognize when she was being played.

She was no better off than she had been. And she was in debt to a…a…

"What are you?" she asked numbly.

The flames went out. "What do _you_ think I am?"

"Enough games." She sounded weak, tired. Probably because she was. But she shrugged and answered, "I thought you were a magician or something. All the levitation and stuff—I don't know. I thought it was smoke and mirrors. But you knew about my family and Marcus so…I leapt."

"Some leap of faith, kid. I'll give you half credit with your guess." Confetti showered over Esther, but she didn't even flinch. "Dream demon, but close enough, I suppose."

Dream demon. Whatever it meant, it made sense.

"Hate to prove wrong and run but I got a couple things to deal with in the dreamscape. Well, you do don't you?" He winked. Esther's stomach churned. "My every happiness to you both! I have a feeling we'll be seeing each other again!"

There were two brief flashes of light and a gloved finger lifted her chin.

" _Very_ soon," Bill promised through his grin.

Bill Cipher disappeared with a _pop_. The falls crashed deep in the forest, drowning the moan of Esther's hopeless sobs to all but the cicadas buzzing in the trees.

* * *

 **[AN]: This is my very first Gravity Falls story so please review and tell me what you think!**

 **I wanted practice writing villains, and Bill Cipher is such a wonderful character that I had to try him out. This story is a one-shot right now, but I have a feeling that I will continue with it so don't be afraid to follow if you enjoyed this prologue!**

 **Thanks for reading!**

 **~~Iridian~~  
**


	2. Chapter 2

**[AN]: Hello! Where Do I Sign used to be a one-shot but, as you can see, I am continuing with the story.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

Nathan Towers' private jet was large enough to host a midsized frat party and had enough alcohol to do the same. But to Esther's knowledge, only eight people had been on the plane at once, and that included the pilot, co-pilot, and Harry, the waiter who hated his employer but stayed for the pay.

Today, though, it was the three aforementioned regulars and two others: Nathan and Esther Towers.

Nathan busied himself with an arsenal of tech, seamlessly typing and tapping his way between two separate phones, a laptop sitting at his table, and a pager from his belt. Lord knows exactly what he did on those infernal things, but it was what he had been doing for the past two years: anything to excuse himself from conversing with his spouse.

She didn't blame him, though, because she did the same thing. She'd become an expert at staring out the jet's windows and was the renown champion of the Quiet Game, her favorite thing to do with Nathan when they had time alone. The soft rumble of the engines was her favorite traveling song; the first seat on the right side of the plane and furthest to the back was her favorite spot.

The laptop keyboard started clicking incessantly, then the buttons on the pager. There was a pause while Nathan waited for a response. He had no idea what to do with himself when he wasn't staring at a screen. He really was a child.

His correspondent's reply made the pager buzz against the table, and not a second passed before it was back in Nathan's hands, and the clicking picked back up.

Esther tore her eyes from the white sea of clouds below to give her husband a look. "Do you really have to make all that noise?"

Nathan's eyes never left his pager. "What do you want me to do? They're on vibrate."

"That's the problem," Esther mumbled. "They rattle the table every two seconds. It's absolutely grating."

Nathan took a breath. "I guess I could turn all of their ringers on. But I know that wouldn't satisfy you either." He mumbled under his breath.

Esther sat up in her seat. "What was that?"

"Nothing."

"I'm 'never satisfied?'"

"You said it, not me."

"You're impossible." She settled back against the window, crossing her arms.

Nathan set his pager down. Finally. "Don't be so dramatic. You always act like your life is so miserable and out of your control and it pisses me off."

 _It is_ , Esther thought to both comments.

"Like do you ever even _think_ about where you are and how lucky you are?"

 _Here we go._

"Three years ago you were facing total economic and social annihilation, not to mention arrest. I don't have to remind you of everything my father had over your head—"

"Yeah, you really don't."

"You should be grateful that he offered you a deal, even though I had absolutely no say in it whatsoever, and didn't even _know_ about it until after the fact…"

"Yeah," Esther said. "Your life is so terrible—you got stuck with me. You got stuck with me and all my family's hard earned money. What a tragedy."

Nathan barked a laugh. "'Hard earned?' 'Stolen' is more like it."

"Yeah, well, you'd know quite a bit about that." Esther turned to look back at him. His jaw was taught, his nostrils flaring. One of the (very) few pleasures of being married to a spoiled brat was the proximity. It offered a surplus of chances to get under his skin.

Nathan leaned over his table. Like _that_ was equivalent to him getting out of his seat and coming down the aisle. "You just need to stop and look at where you are, princess. Things could have been so much worse. In fact, I was really hoping you'd turn down the deal so you'd see how bad it could get."

Esther closed her eyes. She had a headache. "No," she drew the word out. "You were hoping that I wouldn't take the deal so that you could run around like a prodigal prince with a new model on your arm every night. It's not easy dropping your party life to get tied down on a dime, is it?"

The silence that followed ensured that she hit a nerve. She smiled to herself. Parties and nightclubs were the watering holes of a wealthy businessman's handsome bachelor son. 'Here son, take a couple hundred thousand and go have some fun. Just don't do anything that'll deface the name of the company!' Nathan had three years on Esther the year that the Carols family had received their ultimatum, 19 vs. 22, and he was certainly making use of his money, his age, and his lack of relational commitment. He was living the high life, and enjoying every paparazzi rush that came his way.

So, in a way, marrying Esther had ruined his life. She knew what that felt like.

A _beep_ came from the tiny speaker above the cockpit door and its corresponding light flashed to signal the upcoming landing.

Nathan straightened his royal blue tie. "Now, when we get off," he began. "You'll be heading to the hotel, and my meeting will be starting in…" He checked his Rolex. "A little over an hour. So I'll have to hurry."

"Sounds good," Esther mumbled. She opened her eyes and watched the clouds thin with the plane's descent. New York appeared below, just as dazzling as the last time she'd seen it. She couldn't wait for the hustle of the city to swallow her.

* * *

East coast summers felt more like spring, Esther had found. Back home, the coolest day of summer could be about as warm as one of the hottest days in the east. She enjoyed the contrast, found it interesting.

Unsurprisingly, New York was as busy as ever. The traffic—gracious, the traffic!—would give the folks back home a heart attack. So would the language. Everywhere she looked there was someone trying to sell the exact same merchandise as the guy down the block, and there was always a passerby who would stop to check out his cart of cheap scarves and knock off watches. The actual stores were more promising. Macy's; H&M: White House, Black Market. The clothes were remarkable.

Sharing a rich man's money allowed for a little splurging, and she was practically obligated to own a couple of nice things for the press, anyway, as if to let the world know that she was getting along just fine with all of the cash that belonged to her family in the first place. Every time she came to New York, then, she picked up a nice dress or piece of jewelry that she wore a couple times until Nathan noticed and said it didn't look good on her.

Marriotts. Hiltons. No Holiday Inns or cute little bed 'n breakfast places. A Towers stayed only at the best, even if only for a day or two. The magic of room service and house cleaning had died long ago for Esther.

She swiped her key card and pushed the door open, breathing in the cool smell of fresh sheets and leather. Nathan still wasn't back, and wouldn't be until he desperately needed to sleep. Esther had the suite to herself for the next six or so hours.

She tossed her shopping bags on the coffee table in the mini lounge, heading straight for the bedroom so she could finally rest her feet. She left the blinds closed. There was a full length mirror on the tope wall, right by the open archway leading to the bedroom, and Esther caught a head-to-toe look at herself for the first time since the morning.

She'd blindly grabbed a grey sundress at eight that morning for the 2 hour flight from Chicago to New York as well as the inevitable shopping trip after landing. The black heels she had foolishly paired with it made her appear four inches taller, a much appreciated perk. Her hair had been curled when she left Chicago, adorned with a large black floppy hat to shield the sun, but the putrid city breeze had rustled it into oblivion. Her red lipstick and charcoal eye makeup were still intact, but black bags tugged beneath her eyes.

She felt horrid. Absolutely hideous.

Esther stood there, staring at her own reflection for an eternity. The longer she stared, the sadder she got, and the heavier her own body felt balancing on those twig stilettos. Perhaps it was from being in the heat for so long, but a single brisk thought screamed out into the silence of the room.

"I hate myself."

* * *

Satellite didn't change the fact that there was nothing to watch on TV. The crime dramas didn't make any sense, the reality shows melted her brain, and any movies she could purchase weren't worth seeing, let alone paying for, a second time.

But the room service menu was worth glancing at now and again, even if just to practice her pronunciation of obscure French and German dishes. Esther glanced up from _boeuf bourguignon_ and checked the clock. 4:50. Still no sign of Nathan.

Odds were that he had gone to dinner with some friends…or clients…whoever he was meeting with today. Someplace expensive with dim lighting and burgundy booth seats, where the steaks were small and drowned in a wine reduction.

Table for one, please.

Esther forced herself off the bed and slid out of the dress that she'd been in for almost nine hours. Out of one dress and into a maxi skirt she went, deep blue with a wire-thin ivory pattern swirling its way up her left leg, and a white blouse. She grew sick and tired of trying to make her hair look presentable and drew it back into a messy bun after a short while. Were it not for manners and hotel rules, she would have gone to the dining room barefoot.

She didn't bother to look in the mirror before leaving the room and heading for the elevator. She punched the triangular down button, lighting it up, and rubbed a thumb over the metal nubs on her clutch. The hallway was hushed, disturbed only by the soft clunking of approaching shoes. A man turned the corner, dressed to the nines. His dark hair was sleeked back, his mustache trimmed and tidy. He wore sharp cufflinks and nodded to Esther, smiling, while joining her to wait for the lift.

Esther answered with a tight-lipped nod. Three years ago, she would have asked this man how he was.

A heavy silence blanketed the duo. A minute passed, then two. She frowned and looked up at the numbers above the door. The number 3 was glowing.

"It's been on the third floor the whole time," the man said quizzically. "I wonder what the holdup is."

Esther cleared her throat. "I'm sure it's nothing. Housekeeping, laundry, or something like that."

"Or it's stuck. Excuse me." He reached in front of Esther to push the button a series of times, mashing it like a game controller.

"I've tried that before, and believe me, it doesn't work," she giggled.

The man smiled. "Ah, well, it's always worth a shot."

She smiled. "I'm Esther."

"Hello, Esther. My name is William, good to meet you," William said.

"You, too." They shook hands. The numbers began to glow consecutively, signaling the elevator's movement. "Finally."

William adjusted his suit jacket. "Where are you heading?"

"Dinner. And you?"

"The same. Have you stayed here before?" he asked.

Esther rolled her eyes. "So many times. My husband travels here quite a bit for work."

William raised his eyebrows. "Husband?"

Esther looked at him, and William looked at her. There was something in his eyes, but she genuinely couldn't place it. Was it upset? Surprise? She glanced at her left hand, stomach dropping when she saw that her wedding ring was missing. She'd dropped it in her purse to put on later. Looking back at William, she flashed a smile. "Yes, my husband is Nathan Towers."

William's mouth dropped. "Really? You're Esther Towers?"

She swallowed. "I am. And you? Have you stayed here before?"

William failed to recognize her attempt to switch topics. "A couple of times. Amazing, I hardly recognized you!"

She cocked a brow. "Have we met before?"

"No no, it's just that I've seen you in the news and magazines, but…" He gazed at her, awestruck. "You just look so different in person."

Esther shifted nervously under his gaze, and he noticed. "I'm so sorry," he quickly said, his mustache twitching. "I didn't mean to upset you."

"Quite alright," she said, focusing on the elevator doors. The number had stopped again, below their floor. "How do you mean? I'm 'different in person'?" She had to admit, William had sparked her curiosity.

"Well," he began. "I'm not entirely sure. You just seem…in the magazines, you're so…" Esther looked at him. He was clearly older than she was— _much_ older—yet he was acting like a child trying to fess a fault. He sighed and held his hands out, palms up. "Forgive me for saying, but—"

The elevator dinged its arrival, parting to expose Nathan Towers.

"Nathan!" Esther exclaimed. "You're back early."

Nathan frowned, passing a skeptical look between her and William. He rested his eyes on the other man. "I didn't say when I would be back. Who's your friend?"

William beamed. "Mr. Towers, hello! I'm William Darren, nice to meet you." The doors began to close but he stuck his hand in the elevator for Nathan to shake.

After a moment, he did, slowly and firmly. "Likewise, Mr. Darren." He stepped off the lift and looked to at Esther. "Where are you headed, darling?"

Esther puffed her chest. "Dinner, _darling_. Would you like to join me? Or have you already eaten with your colleagues?"

Nathan glanced at William, who rocked on his feet, sensing but not understanding the sudden tension in the air. "Actually, I have. Sorry, I didn't know you were waiting on me." He paused and added sourly, "Will Mr. Darren be joining you?"

William's eyes went wide and he quickly shook his head. "Oh, no sir! Thank you, but I have a friend waiting on me downstairs."

"Right." Nathan looked back at Esther. "I'll see you later, then." He brushed past her towards the room.

Esther nodded, knowing he couldn't see her. The elevator started to close again and William thrust his arm out to catch it, sliding inside. He waited for Esther to join him.

But she stood there, staring right through him, wringing her hands around her clutch. She couldn't breathe. The flats on her feet were so confining.

"Miss Towers?"

She looked at William and smiled softly. "Right, sorry."

The ride down was silent and awkward. Esther knew what Nathan was thinking, and every look he gave her was loaded with warning: You have a public image to maintain. The Towers family cannot afford to have headlines trumpeting a floozy daughter-in-law.

She wanted to beat Nathan with a rod half of the time. Did he seriously think she was going to do something so stupid?

The door opened to the ground floor. William let Esther exit first and they walked to the dining room together. A soon as they entered, a man at a far table waved his arm over his head, catching Mr. Darren's attention. "There he is," he said. "It was nice to meet you, Mrs. Towers. Enjoy your meal."

With a piteous look, he went to meet his friend across the room, leaving Esther to request a table for herself. It was something she'd gotten quite good at over the past couple years. When she glanced out the window and saw the flash of a golden coattail, however, she lost her appetite.

* * *

 **[AN]: Please review, favorite, and follow if you liked this chapter and would like to see where it goes! Every bit of feedback helps!**

 **Unlike past stories of mine, I will be writing several chapters ahead of uploading so the hiatus isn't as terrible. I believe this story will be filled with deliciously unexpected twists and turns so stick around ;)**

 **Thanks for reading!**

 **~~Iridian~~**


	3. Chapter 3

**[AN]: Chapter 3. Enjoy!**

* * *

She didn't imagine it. She couldn't have.

It had been three years...she couldn't just imagine something like that.

"Right this way, Mrs. Towers," the waiter beckoned.

Esther smiled at him, far too widely, and held up a finger. "Could you excuse me for a moment?" She didn't wait for answer—just pushed her clutch into the young man's hands and bolted from the dining room.

The lobby was clear except for a family checking in and a bellboy with a cart full of luggage. Esther power-walked across the marble floor, but the door wasn't nearing fast enough.

 _Screw it._ She took a fistful of her skirt, hiked it up to her knees, and broke into a sprint, not caring about how improper or unseemly it was in a place like this.

She almost whacked someone with the door when she threw it open, but the doorman stopped it just in time. "Really!" some posh putz exclaimed.

"Excuse me, excuse me, coming through," Esther said loudly, pushing against the crowd's flow. She had spotted the long, familiar trail of gold on the right side of the building, just outside the fourth window from the front.

Someone rammed into her, knocking her off balance and into a potted tree. She didn't stop when it toppled over, but turned the corner and faced the masses. The city was a sea of color and confidence, a beautiful thing, but intrusive when you had to get somewhere fast. Herds of young ladies in too-short-skirts had greater priorities than the family man CEO talking to his Bluetooth right alongside them and vice versa. The first time Esther found herself in the concrete wilds, she nearly suffocated.

She whipped her head around, scanning for a glob of gold against the buildings' grey and brown hues, before starting down the street along the hotel's side. She wished for those four-inch heels now. They could help her to see over everyone's head.

A top hat. She could see a top hat not too far away. She desperately shoved her way down the walk. "Please excuse me, pardon me." She ignored the obscenities that came her way. They didn't understand.

There: a tall blond man wearing a top hat and a golden suit. Esther's breath caught. Could it really be him?

"Hey!" she called. With one last thrust, she broke through the line of people and caught the man's arm, forcing him to face her.

"Stop!" she demanded, but froze.

It wasn't him. He was too tall, too burly. Not only was the suit different, missing a pocket watch and embroidered with scarlet patterns, but it simply wasn't him. The eyes were different. The _eyes_ , plural, were different. Both there. Both blue.

It wasn't him.

The man stared at her, dumbfounded. But when he actually _saw_ her, a goofy smile appeared. "Hey, toots, you need something?"

Esther's mouth hung agape. "I'm sorry." She was so embarrassed. Of course it wasn't him. "I'm sorry. I just thought you were someone else."

He shrugged. "Well, I'm sorry to disappoint, but I'm sure if we got to talking—"

"I'm married," she said, and headed for the door, wafting away his putrid aroma of alcohol and cologne.

* * *

Of course it wasn't him. Even if it had been, what was she planning on doing? She couldn't decide what drove her to go after him in the first place.

She guessed it was just the thought of beating Bill Cipher to a pulp for ripping her life apart. There was probably some unconscious Freudian mojo at work making her think of the guy at the first sight of a top hat.

The best part of the whole ordeal was having to explain her sudden exit to the poor waiter holding her purse when she got back.

Dinner was unexceptional. She ate half of everything, lacking the stomach to swallow too much before wanting to lean over and cough it all up. But the wine was outstanding.

It was six o'clock by the time she got back to the room. The curtains were now wide open to the fading sun and winking city lights, and the drone of honking taxis rose into the purple sky as an anthem for debauchery and wild living to ensue. A Pepsi from the mini fridge sat opened and partially drunk on the coffee table, oozing condensation onto the glass.

Esther kicked her shoes into the coat closet and went to the bedroom. _Nathan'll be kicked back on the bed with his laptop bathing in paperwork_ , she predicted.

Sure enough, Nathan, still in his grey suit and royal blue tie, was drowning in a mountain of papers and files. He shoes were discarded on the floor at the end of his bed. He typed fluently at his laptop, eyes red from staring at the screen.

The events of the evening finally caught up to her in one fowl swoop, and the sound of the mechanical clacking was the return of Esther's screaming headache.

Nathan didn't bother to look up from his work. "You're back early."

"And you're a pain," Esther snapped, making a beeline for her luggage. "Dinner was terrible, by the way, thanks for asking."

"I certainly hope it wasn't," Nathan said. "For two hundred dollars I hope it was pretty amazing."

Esther pulled out her pajamas and toiletry bag. She couldn't wait for a shower. "Most of it was the wine."

He stopped typing and looked at her. "How much did you have?"

She fumbled through her trunk, looking for her tooth brush. Her fingers tingled, working slowly. She was so _tired_. "Not much. It was just expensive."

Nathan returned to his work. "Well, if you're going to be spending my money, I can't argue with that choice."

Esther's hands stilled. Nathan said that to get her to react, to get her to fight him. The boiling in her chest wanted her to fight and scream at him until she couldn't scream anymore. _She_ wanted to fight and scream at him.

But she wanted a shower more.

She pulled her brush from the bottom and turned for the bathroom.

"What, no witty retort?"

The door slammed closed.

* * *

Esther used to sing in the shower.

The feel of scalding water on her back was heavenly. The stench of coconut, on the other hand, counteracted the calming massage, so she used the odorless complimentary shampoo and conditioner instead.

Spotting that flash of gold stirred up a thousand thoughts and feelings that Esther had been pushing back for years.

Hatred: She wanted the see Bill Cipher's head on a pike, his teeth strewn on the ground so he could never smile at her again. She wanted to watch him choke on their contract and burn in blue fire, a fantasy long forgotten but recently recalled.

Grief: Marrying Nathan destroyed what was left of her childhood, even at 19. She was ready for college. She had sent off applications the week before graduation and was awaiting replies any day. And then the letter came, and Bill Cipher came and offered her the chance of a lifetime: to save her family and her future. But he was a conman. Whatever he was—human or dream demon or otherwise—he was a deceitful brute and he had taken everything from her.

Fear: Esther still owed him a favor. The slight possibility that the freak could be in the city had sent acute terror up her spine.

Only the pounding at the door woke her from her thoughts. She shut the water off with wrinkled hands. "I'm done! Yeesh…"

All the lights were off but Nathan's bedside lamp when she came out, dressed and ready for bed. Nathan was playing online poker, the kind with fake money so there wasn't any real risk.

Esther dabbed her hair with a towel. "Well are you showering or aren't you?"

He shrugged. "I'm good."

She jabbed a thumb over her shoulder. "Then why were you going all Jack Nicholson on the door?"

He gave her an incredulous look, like she had just asked him the most offensive question. "You were in there for almost an hour. Did you need more time?"

She scoffed. "We don't pay for water, genius. I can shower for as long as I want!" She slammed her towel on her bed. "Is nothing sacred anymore? Do you really find the need to control everything I do?"

Nathan threw his hands up, stunned. "I was just seeing that you were okay! You had a lot to drink and I—"

"It's none of your business, Nathan! I didn't even have that much so just back off! I'm fine!" Esther stormed for the door, head swimming. She wanted out of there. She wanted a lot of things.

Nathan tossed his laptop aside. "Esther!"

"Leave me alone!" Her toes jammed on the corner of Nathan's bed and she cried out as the pain shot through her foot. The carpet rose to meet her. She shot an arm out for the table, catching a tray she hadn't seen earlier. It rang out when struck and threw its contents: a bottle of Veuve Clicquot champagne.

Her right shoulder broke her fall. Only a miracle saved her head from cracking open on the window.

"Esther!"

Something shattered across her left side, followed by the casing soak of champagne over her clothes. A pain sliced through her shoulder, like a glorified paper cut, only the paper was lined with acid. She wailed and immediately shot up from the floor, sending bits of glass flying off her tank top in all directions. When she saw the green shard protruding from her upper arm, drawing streams of blood, she felt tears wet her cheeks.

Nathan ran his hands through his hair, standing over her. "Esther…" He paced for a moment, looking around wildly. "Um…"

Esther sniffed, reaching out to the glass in her arm.

"Don't! Touch that-don't touch that," Nathan told her. He rushed into the bathroom, returning with a first aid kit and towel. "Oh no. Oh, wow." He dropped to the soaked carpet by Esther.

She was moving in a heartbeat. "I don't need your help!" she said, pushing away towards the window. "I'm fine! Leave me alone!"

"You're not fine," Nathan insisted. "Look at you, you're a mess!"

She sobbed, "I know! I know, but I'm okay!" and cradled her arm, gasping. It was covered in blood.

"You're not, now give it here," said Nathan.

Esther scowled. Before she could say anything, he took her hand and gently pulled her arm away from her chest. Her skin flexed around the glass and stung. "You're hurting me."

Nathan rolled his eyes. " _I'm_ not hurting you. Calm down."

"I _am_ calm…" She dropped her head back against the window. She was too tired to fight him, and she wanted that glass out. She was so tired.

She let him dab the blood and drying champagne from her arm, taking up grains of glass as he went. Removing the big piece made her whole arm tingle with a horrible itch.

The process was humiliating. She hated Nathan with a burning passion. Having him help her...it was the lowest of positions she could have possibly been in.

Yet he did it without question or request.

"I'm fine…"

"Yeah, I get it," Nathan said, wrapping her upper arm in bandages and ointment. "Get changed and get to bed. Actually, you may want to take another shower."

"If you're trying to be funny—"

"I'm not," he said quickly. "Have you ever tried sleeping covered in alcohol?" A pause. "It's not pleasant, is my point. Seriously, get washed up and I'll call housekeeping to deal with this." He put a hand under Esther's uninjured arm and gently hoisted her from the floor, wrapping an arm around to steady her. Champagne ran down her legs from her shorts.

She whispered numbly, "Thanks."

"Yeah, just don't fall again in the shower. If you lock the door, I can't get in."

That wasn't a problem; she took a bath. The carpet was dry and the glass was gone when she got out. Nathan was in his pajamas. He looked up when Esther opened the door and eased into bed.

"Alright?" he asked.

Esther didn't look at him. She couldn't. "I'm fine." She pulled the covers up to her neck and turned away from him.

"Of course you are," Nathan muttered. The light flicked off, submersing them both in darkness. "We'll have to stay here for a couple more days."

"Okay."

"So you can explore the city a little more than you've been able to in the past."

"Great."

Both were silent for so long that Esther thought Nathan had fallen asleep, but then he added, "Dad needs me back home after this if that's okay."

Esther frowned, rolling over to look at him. "Since when does it matter what I care? If he needs you back, we're going back."

In his own bed, Nathan stirred and made rough eye contact with her in the adjusting darkness. "Well…I know you've been wanting to…you know, visit your family for a while."

Esther's heart sped up. Home? "So?"

His voice was suddenly hoarse and biting, as if he hadn't just extended the first kind words to her since their fraudulent marriage vows. "So I could drop your sorry backside off in Oregon on the way to California, if you want… Actually, you don't have a choice. You're going home for a while and that's final. Go to sleep." Having had the final word, Nathan rolled over and away from Esther's shock, ending the unnatural conversation.

Esther turned over as well, trying to catch her breath. The last time she was in Gravity Falls was…what, a year ago? Two? She smiled to herself. She was going back. 'A couple more days' couldn't go by fast enough.

* * *

 **[AN]: Please remember to follow, favorite, and review! Every bit of feedback helps!**

 **Speaking of which, when I go back and read over some of my stories, I sometimes find grammatical or spelling errors that sneaked their way into the final draft. This can happen when my files are uploaded to the website and certain words are lost or anything like that. If you find anything like that, please feel free to write a review or DM me the error and I will fix it (I will not be angry either (:). Thanks!**

 **So Esther is going home! After 3 years, she is returning to the most bizarre town in the world...what could possibly go wrong?**

 **Thanks for reading!**

 **~~Iridian~~**


	4. Chapter 4

**[AN]: Thanks for everyone's positive feedback! Every review, follow, and favorite is greatly appreciated! (I say that every single time, but it's like 'I love you': you can't say it enough)**

 **T** **his will be the last chapter for at least a week since I'm going on vacation and I won't have any time to spend on a computer :P**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

Esther spent her remaining four days in New York City under the shade of a pin oak in one of the quietest sectors of Central Park. It was the only place in the city that even vaguely resembled Gravity Falls and smelled of something more pleasant than exhaust fumes and fried everything. The orchestra of birds hidden in the branches almost blocked out the roar of traffic around her. Almost.

The presence of birds and an abundance of flora aside, it was the furthest thing from home.

She ached to go back. A deep spiritual itch tugged at her every thought, calling her back to Lake Gravity Falls and the town library, to _Greasy's Diner_ and every weird, quirky, disturbing, lovable local she was proud to call 'neighbor.' Her heart leapt when she pictured _Erik's Fountain Drinks_ and the bowling alley and recalled the night of her senior homecoming. She dared a smile at the memory of bowling in her floor-length turquoise dress alongside her equally elegant friends, sipping milkshakes and exchanging blushed glances with Rusty Young over the ball-return.

She closed her eyes and willed the scent of lake water into each breeze, ignoring the grey odors they carried. Esther needed a city detox. She needed to go home.

* * *

Esther ordered room service each night after having run out to chase a finely-dressed illusion. Even if no one thought anything of her strange behavior, even if everyone had forgotten all about it, the incident had imprinted an ill feeling on her whenever she stepped foot in the dining room. Besides, eating alone in the privacy of your own room is comfier than the same in public. You can't wear pajamas or recline on the sofa in a hotel dining room.

She ladled a spoon of peculiarly seasoned vegetable soup into her mouth with one hand and surfed channels with the other. The suite door clicked and swung open, revealing Nathan in his full corporate glory, briefcase and all. He'd neatly combed his flaxen hair to the side for the sharp businessman look. Gosh, he was fulfilling such a stereotype right now. Esther half expected him to tear off his jacket and call, "Honey, I'm home!"

When he saw her lounging on the couch, however, he stopped. "What are you doing here?"

Esther's spoon froze halfway to her mouth. She cocked an eyebrow. "I'm eating. Is that alright? Or did you expect me to be cleaning house?"

"No need to be snarky," he said, setting his briefcase down. "I just thought you would be eating downstairs." What was that in his voice?

She put the spoon, untouched, back in its bowl. "I've been eating in here for the past four days; I thought you knew that. Weren't the trays of dishes outside the door each night enough of a clue?"

He pointed at her, as if to say "you have a point." "Right, I forgot, sorry." After a moment's hesitation, he rushed to the bedroom.

Esther sat there blinking for a moment. _What?_ That had to be the first time Nathan walked into a room without insulting or degrading her in some way.

And did he just _apologize_?

She set her bowl on the tray and shot up, barefoot, lavender pajamas and all, and followed him. "Is everything okay?" she called.

Nathan was busying himself with returning clothes to his suitcase. His movements were swift, hurried. Esther could see the urgency shooting from his fingertips. "What are you doing?"

He gently set a pair of slacks neatly in its place and turned back to her. The look on her face must have snapped him out of whatever mode he was in because his eyes finally focused on her. "Packing," he answered.

Esther huffed. "Yeah, I can see that. Why are you doing it like a crazy person? We're not leaving until tomorrow."

He snapped his fingers, making Esther jump. "I forgot to tell you: we're leaving tonight, actually. I made it so we could leave tonight."

Esther's mouth dropped. "What?"

Nathan gave a tightlipped grin. "We're leaving tonight." He checked his watch. "In two hours, actually, so we need to go."

She stood motionless in the door, his words not quite taking meaning. "Wait…why?"

Nathan's eyes flickered. "Huh?"

Esther shook her head, clearing herself of shock. "'You made it' so we could leave early? Why?"

Nathan reached over and started to close his suitcase. "I just thought I could be rid of you a couple hours earlier, but if you want to stay longer, that can just as easily—"

"No!" she cried, bounding forward to stop him, a smile stretching from ear to ear. "No! Thank you!" She couldn't help herself. Those were the only words that would come out. "Thank you!"

* * *

Sleeping on the plane was near to impossible, and not because of the seats. She still couldn't believe she was going home. The restlessness coursing through her now brought back memories of a favorite beach trip from long ago; she'd stayed up all night from the excitement.

The giddiness overshadowed the discomfort in her gut.

Nathan, on the other hand, was asleep before the jet even took off. Esther wasn't entirely sure what he did for his father's company—in all the while she'd been traveling with him, she hadn't cared enough to ask—but only a blind man could ignore the stress that tugged at his eyes, weighed him down when he walked. The effects, nonetheless, gave her the quiet that rarely came with their flights.

The plane chased the sun across the states, but soon the cabin was dark, and Esther drifted off to the thought of the Oregon wilds passing beneath.

* * *

The landing warning woke Nathan from his deep sleep. For the briefest moment, he forgot where he was, but Esther's form rising and falling in her seat across the aisle reminded him of the conversation with his father.

" _I don't think she'll get into any trouble. It's Gravity Falls, dad, the blandest place on the west coast. Trust me, it'll be okay."_

He never knew exactly what tied Esther to the small town. He'd visited and found quickly that it wasn't the grandest of vacation spots. Still, something changed after she left for their Malibu wedding. Her eyes dimmed; she never smiled. He was such an insensitive fool that it took him two years to notice that it wasn't him she was mad at—not really; it was everything else.

Nathan checked his phone for the time and stood, stretching in his suit. Man, he needed to get out of this thing. Esther jolted in her seat, like she was having a nightmare, but settled as quickly as ripples in a pond. When she slept in chairs, she tucked her feet under herself and hugged her chest. Had she always done that?

He hated to wake her, but she'd just have a fit if they landed without her knowing. He reached out to shake her and pulled back immediately. Not a good idea.

The curtains in the back parted. Harry's head poked through wearing an obsequious smile. "Mr. Towers? Good evening, sir, we're about to land. We're all supposed to sit down, if that's alright with you… Actually, it's kind of protocol, you know, for everyone's safety and all—"

Nathan held up his hand, biting back a groan. "I got it, Harry."

The boy beamed, and bowed out of the cabin.

Nathan sighed back into his seat, grateful, for once, for Harry's intrusions.

* * *

It was the undeniable sound of wheels kissing tarmac that woke Esther. She jolted from a heavy dream, disappointed that her fantasy of clear blue skies had to be interrupted. But the realization of where she finally was sent a rush of energy to her brain.

She tore herself from the window, glowing with joy, when Nathan coughed for her attention, and scrambled for her bags at the back of the plane. "There's a cab waiting to take you into town," Nathan said. "Wherever you want to stay is where it'll go."

Esther lugged her case into the cabin, slinging her purse over her shoulder. "Got it."

With a sigh, Nathan suddenly reached out, pulled the case from her wavering grip, and carried it expertly to the door. Esther stood taken aback for a split second before following.

"I've already let the inn know you'll be coming in case you want to stay there," Nathan continued. "Even if only for a night. That way, you won't have to barge in on your parents this late."

Esther blinked at him. "That's nice of you, Nathan…"

The door eased open, filling the plane with a perfume of summer wind and blacktop. Maybe it was the night air that made Esther stare Nathan straight in the eye and ask, "What's the catch?"

Nathan just made for the stairs. "What do you mean?"

Esther followed, proud of her decision not to wear heels as she scaled the steps. The news that she was going home had hit her like a brick, blinding her to the abnormality of her husband's sudden charity. She'd never had the mind to ask the truly important question—that is, the only question important in the relationship she had with Nathan. "I mean that all of this is ridiculously unexpected and completely unlike you. Aren't you afraid I'll get in trouble or something?"

Nathan gave her a clueless look.

"It's no secret that you hull me around like extra baggage so I don't do anything stupid," she said, rolling her eyes. She pointed a strong finger at him. "I don't know who you think I am, Nathan Towers, but the last thing I am is a floozy! But if you're dropping me off someplace where practically anything is bound to happen, there has to be some sort of catch."

Nathan was incredulous. "Ever heard of, 'don't look a gift horse in the mouth?' I just thought you could use the fresh air. Why does it have to be a big deal?"

Esther scoffed. "It's a big deal because—because…" She stopped. Wait—what was she saying? This was a good thing! Why was she arguing against herself?

Nathan pinched the bridge of his nose. "Look, I just thought you'd like to get away from the city ambiance for a bit. Like you said before, concrete buildings and old train stations are only appealing for so long." He paused, massaging the back of his neck and staring at the wings of the plane. The wind whipped his hair loose from its style, but he didn't seem to notice.

Esther saw something in his eyes that she couldn't quite name; something alien that made her suddenly rush forward and pull him into a hug that he was too shocked to return. They each held their breath for the whole two seconds.

She eased away, retrieving her suit case from Nathan's hand, and gave him a single nod. "Thanks," she said. "Have fun in California."

Invigoration warping her insides, she practically ran to the cab waiting at the edge of the tarmac, leaving Nathan dumbstruck in the plane's seeping light.

* * *

No greater sight was there than that which met Esther as the cab rolled to a stop outside the inn.

Stars. Vast, shining, clear stars stretching across the night's indigo canvas in hues transcending her vocabulary.

No smoke. No light pollution. Orion, Leo, and Ursa Major, reunited in the sky. The sight brought tears to her eyes. With a gluttonous breath of midnight air, she stepped out and onto home soil.

 _No Vacancy_ was Gravity Falls' local inn. Out front, a huge neon sign flashed its name in cursive red letters high above the surrounding buildings. More often than not, the 22-room bed n' breakfast was empty except for Felicity, the owner, and her grandson, Rory. When Felicity, an absolute powerhouse of a woman, was told that perhaps the reason for her slow business was the misleading name of the place, she refused to change the sign and attributed the lack of customers to her accuser's sour attitude.

Rory worked night shifts so his grandmother could sleep. When Esther walked through the door, ringing the welcome bell as she did so, he looked up from the comic book he read by the light of a fading desk lamp and made a double take. "Esther Carols?" he exclaimed.

Esther yanked her suitcase over the threshold and let the door swing shut. She grinned at him. "The one and only!"

The man looked her up and down, mouth wide open. "You've changed," was all he could say.

Rory was never one for small talk. His job at the inn was the closest thing he ever had to a social life, really, since it required him to converse with customers. He hid behind his fringe and stuck to his graphic novels, but no one resented him for it or anything. When he talked, he was often to the point, if not somewhat rude. But Esther just smiled. "Well, it's been a couple years! You've gotten taller yourself."

Rory moved out from behind the counter, hands in his pockets, and shrugged. "Just a little. But that's not what I meant."

Esther's smile withered. She looked down at her clothes—grey suit pants and a peach button-down blouse beneath a light jacket that hid her damaged arm. She hauled a Coach purse and suitcase half her height .The last time Rory had seen her was from across the street; she was wearing worn jeans and a Big Gunz Laser Tag t-shirt. "Yeah, I think I know what you mean."

A silence passed. She and Rory weren't the closest of friends, which made their reunion slightly awkward. Should they hug, or…?

"So what are you doing here?" Rory finally asked.

"I'm staying in town for a while. Visiting, catching up and the sort." She gestured to her luggage. "Didn't Nathan call you?"

Rory frowned. "Someone called saying to expect a guest, which got Gran all keyed up. Why aren't you staying with your parents?"

She shifted on her feet. "They…don't exactly know I'm in town yet. I didn't want to wake them up so late and get them all excited. I won't be staying here the whole time, just the night."

Rory returned to his station behind the counter and opened the log book. "If the idea is to stay secret for a bit, be glad it was me working the check-in and not Gran. She wouldn't care if she woke the whole town up saying you were home."

Esther moved further in and looked around the lobby, drinking in the rustic theme and breathing in the scent of cinnamon. Everything was wood—yeesh, she'd missed cabin-style walls. Hunting trophies peered down at her from above the doors to the breakfast hall, lounge, and staircase, which led to the rooms. The one time _No Vacancy_ was completely packed to the brim was during hunting season.

Rory scribbled in the log book, not bothering to ask for some of Esther's information. Without looking up he verified, "Your last name is 'Towers' now, right?"

She swallowed. "Yeah."

"It's so weird," Rory said, shaking his head. "No one saw it coming…" His eyes widened at his own breech of etiquette and he lifted his head, mortified. "I'm sorry, I didn't—"

"No, I get it," she stopped him softly. "Neither did I."

A car passed outside and they fell back into silence. Nathan was in California by now, enjoying freshly squeezed orange juice or whatever made living in Malibu so wonderful. She thought back to the hug she'd given him and wondered if that was really a good idea. If Nathan started getting ideas that she was somehow indebted to him now, he could make her life worse than it already was. Also, he never actually answered her question about there being a catch.

Then again, she figured she didn't have to worry about that much, despite his manipulative past. There were no tones of malice or deceit in what he said. Actually, he seemed a little flustered, like a schoolboy giving his teacher a flower.

Rory slid something along the countertop towards her. He withdrew his hand to reveal a single silver key with a very round top. The black number 2 stared up at her. "Room 2, if that's alright."

Esther pinched the key off the counter. "What, am I not good enough for number 1?" she joked.

Rory shrugged. "Someone's already in there, sorry."

She grabbed her case and moved for the stairs. "Anyone we know?"

Rory was already enthralled with his comic book again, so she repeated herself. "Some guy from Piedmont. Says he used to come here as a kid. Never heard of him, but I guess he's some kind of author."

Esther raised her brow. "An author? Do you know his name?"

"Yeah: Dipper Pines."

* * *

 **[AN]: "Why is it that whenever you're around, there's always ghosts or monsters or whatever?" -Robbie to Dipper, Fight Fighters**

 **Not that that's in any way relevant ;)**

 **Please review and let me know what you think! As previously mentioned, I'll be at the beach for a week, so this will be the last update for at least that amount of time. While you wait, though, you can mull over Nathan's strange behavior and theorize about what Dipper's doing in Gravity Falls...**

 **Thanks for reading!**

 **~~Iridian~~**


	5. Chapter 5

**[AN]: Thanks to everyone who wished me a great vacation! It was wonderful, and while I didn't have my computer, I was able to start another chapter on paper by the pool ;)**

 **(It got wet /:)**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

Small town gossip spreads faster than the flu in church and warps as easily as hardwood in water.

When the news of Esther Carols' return to Gravity Falls left Felicity's lips, it was only a matter of hours before Esther had divorced "that no-good Towers kid" and kept her visit secret from her family "due to shame." Gossip is one big game of telephone, where the final message isn't always so funny.

The phone in room 2 started singing around eight in the morning. Esther didn't know that, however, since jetlag sent her to _Greasy's Diner_ at six, before dawn. Thank God Lazy Susan had hired someone else to open the diner in the early mornings. The kid showed no signs of knowing her when she quietly slipped in and ordered a black coffee. She just yawned and pulled her hair back in a pony tail. The lights weren't even on yet.

Esther held her steaming mug to her chest and walked down the aisle to the furthest booth from the door. Sliding into the worn down yellow seats, visions of card games and celebratory burgers flashed by like old films. In the silence, Esther shouted, " _Kemps_!" and slammed her four Kings down on the table, high fiving Jenny to the sweet sound of James' and Rusty's defeated groans.

She swallowed something like a sob and sipped her coffee. How strange…she thought returning to Gravity Falls would boost her spirits. So far, all it had done was depress her.

There were ghosts everywhere.

"Michael! Where's Chapman?" someone screeched, breaking the silence. The door swung open and rang the bell, an announcement secondary to Lazy Susan's shrill question.

Something thumped under the counter, and the girl, Michael, popped up from behind it, rubbing her head, eyes heavy from sleep. "Michael!" Susan scolded. "Sleeping on the job again? 'Where's Chapman,' I said!"

Esther raised her head from the booth to see Susan throw on an apron and toss Michael one of her own. "Must have been out late again last night," the girl yawned. "Playing cards with the guys, or something."

Susan muttered something under her breath about that lazy something or other. Esther chuckled to herself. _Just like old times_.

But the lights suddenly came on, sending a sharp pain through her skull. She seethed quietly and hid her eyes beneath her hood.

"Well, he's lucky that fella in the corner hasn't ordered anything or we'd be serving extra off his paycheck!" Esther quickly dipped her head and took a swig of coffee. As much as she so desperately wanted to leap up and shout, "You've never called me 'fella' in your life, Susan," she knew her neighbors, and Lazy Susan could keep a secret as well as a parrot.

Heels clicked across the wood floor towards her; her heart leapt and her stomach dropped. Esther watched two red heels stop at the table from inside her hood. "Top up on your coffee, stranger?" she asked.

Esther shook her head and took another sip to show that she had plenty of Susan's black ambrosia, but the shoes didn't move. "Need some breakfast? Our cook is out, but Michael can whip up an okay omelet if need be!" She shook her head with more vigor.

Susan just jabbered on, to Esther's chagrin. "I don't think I've seen you before! You visit often? You know, actually, you do look a little familiar. Did you come up for Pioneer Day? Oh! I know! You stopped by for my Free Mystery Muffin Day last year, right? You ordered number five!"

Her trademark voice made it terribly difficult for Esther to hold in her laughter. As a child, she remembered Susan being so welcoming and funny that she begged her parents every Sunday to go to _Greasy's_ for lunch. She never told her friends to keep it down when they stopped by for milkshakes after a football game—the whole place was packed full anyway.

But her heart ached. She wanted to jump up and hug her. She wanted to cry and ask how she'd been and if business was good and if she was still making her special coffee pancakes that never quite agreed with her pallet. She wanted to introduce herself to Michael and ask if she'd been living in Gravity Falls long and tease her about getting in with the wrong crowd, that Chapman would drag her to one of his poker nights and drain her of all she had.

But how could she? She knew her neighbors. When Esther was fifteen, Jenny went through a scene fashion phase. Wind of her dark jeans and heavy makeup reached Susan's ears, and it wasn't a day before Jenny had supposedly joined a cult. Funny in hindsight, but something like that is fixed with a change of clothes. Who knows what she was now: slut; gold digger; stranger.

She wasn't interested in hearing what Susan or anyone else thought of her. Gravity Falls may not have changed, but Esther Carols had.

The coffee was making its way up her throat. "Excuse me," she blurted out. She stood up suddenly and rushed past Susan, ready to hurl. Her mug flew off the table, shattering on the floor and splashing scalding coffee across Susan's shins.

"Yow!" she cried, retreating from the mess. "Hey, what's the big idea? What's the hurry?"

Esther turned back, gaping. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry, Susan!"

Susan dabbed at her ankles with a rag. Behind the counter, Michael was wide awake and watching the scene with a spatula in hand, flabbergasted. Susan straightened just as a customer walked through the door. Her eyes widened, even the lazy one. "Esther?" she breathed.

Esther swallowed. Her hair fell around her face—the hood had fallen off. She scrambled to pull it up, but the voice behind her made her stop. "Esther?"

She whirled around and her heart stopped. A man her age in a red flannel eased the door closed behind him. He ran a hand through his already disheveled red hair and blinked over hazel eyes.

"Rusty?"

Rusty Young raised a hand in greeting, smiling uncertainly. Esther's stomach roiled.

"Esther Carols!" Susan cried, throwing her hands up. "I guess it's 'Towers' now, isn't it? I didn't know you were in town! We'll make a thing out of it: one free item off the menu for all customers!"

All Esther could do was look at the two in turn, dizzying herself. The world turned green. She breathed heavily. "I have to go!" she said, cutting into Susan's elated rambling. She bolted for the door, wonky on her feet, but Rusty blocked her only way out.

"Hey, are you alright?" he asked with that perfect accent and genuine concern. Esther let herself look him straight in the eyes and regretted it on the spot. Her heart was a cinderblock in her chest and a sob was working its way into her mouth.

"Move!" she almost shouted, pushing Rusty aside. She burst out the door into the parking lot, met by the chill of 6:15 in the morning. She'd walked to the diner, but now she was wishing for some sort of vehicle so she could drive as far away as fast as she could.

Someone honked at her from the parking lot, called her name, but she crossed the threshold of the woods and allowed it swallow her.

* * *

Esther never was much of a runner, but if the time called for a mile sprint, she could do it straight through in record time. The morning cold bit her lungs and did nothing for the rest of her body, but nevertheless, she worked her way up and down the unpredictable slopes and through the brush that clung to her jeans like reaching hands.

Her mind swirled, confused and longing and alone all at once. Gravity Falls was supposed to _help_ her, not make her want to run until she died. The diner, the inn, everyone was supposed to make her feel safe. But she felt like an absolute stranger in her own home.

She cursed herself; she hadn't even gone home to visit her parents yet.

But seeing Rusty—that was a whole new kind of feeling. Rusty Young was her high school sweetheart. He was the man she wanted to marry if things were different. When Rusty heard about her engagement to Nathan, he never let on that he was bothered, but they never looked at each other the same way again. He probably thought she was a gold digger, that anything they had close to romance was all a sham.

Esther had recited over a hundred different ways she could tell him that it wasn't like that. She was ready to tell him the whole story, dream demons and family secrets included, but out loud, she knew he would hate her even more.

The sound of falling water grew louder the deeper she ran into the forest. Her sure strides turned to dragging steps and shuffled treading before she dropped to her knees and caught her breath.

Without the crunching of leaves beneath her feet, the woods were still, like a pond after the ripples have all gone out. Somewhere overhead, two squirrels chased one another and a crow cawed at the warming sun.

Below, Esther quietly sobbed.

"What is _wrong_ with me?" she asked aloud. "I'm supposed to be better…I'm supposed to be happy…" She curled into herself, rocking back and forth in the dirt. She searched for a word to describe what she was feeling and couldn't conjure anything surpassing 'despair.'

She wanted to stay in Gravity Falls.

She wanted to leave.

She didn't want things to be different.

She didn't know what she wanted.

She was pulled from her thoughts by a voice, too far off to be understood but close enough to be distinguished as male. Esther lifted her head to the sound, wiping her cheeks dry. The voice wasn't familiar; maybe it was a tourist? A hunter?

Either way, she was about a mile from the edge of the forest. She stood, feeling sick, and brushed herself off, checking around for someone watching her. The fog was beginning to dissipate but it still stretched far in every direction. If he was nearby, she couldn't tell.

She turned to leave, retracing her steps back towards the diner, when someone called, "Hey!" to her left. A figure emerged from the haze, arms raised and waving for her attention. "You alright?" he yelled.

Foolishly, Esther looked around to confirm that the stranger was, indeed, talking to her. "Uh, yeah, I think so," she yelled back. "Are _you_ okay?"

"I'm doing fine," the stranger answered. He stopped walking towards her. "What are you doing out here?"

Esther wasn't ready to give him—whoever he was—the whole story. He was young, about her age, lithe and prepared. He carried a hiking pack. "I was running."

"Running?" the man said, a twang of interest in his voice. "From what?"

She frowned. "Nothing. I was just jogging."

The man laughed, adjusting his cap through the distorting fog. "Jogging? In jeans? Is this your first time?"

Anger flared in her chest. "And what are you doing, huh?" she asked.

The man hiked his bag up higher on his shoulders. "What's it look like? I'm on a walk! It's cool enough in the mornings that you don't die of heat and you can get a good three hours in! You know, just for future reference, or something."

Esther held her arms out. "I already know that! I grew up here! I could tell you more about these woods than you could learn from a thousand hikes!" She couldn't just sit back and let this tourist lecture her about her own woods.

The man took a couple casual steps closer. "Wait, you grew up here?"

"Sure!" Esther took a few steps back towards the diner. "And I really have to get back. Nice talking to—"

"No!" the man called. "Wait!" He jogged towards her, hands up. The contents of his pack jangled with each step. "Look, I know we don't know each other, but could I ask you a couple questions? It won't take a moment."

Now that he was closer, Esther could make out his features: thick brown hair hanging in his eyes beneath a worn blue and white cap; brown eyes, wide with inexplicable excitement; and a rounder face with a pen tucked behind his ear. He was wearing jeans, covered in mud and grass stains, and a plain black t-shirt. In a way, he looked like he belonged in Gravity Falls.

He held out his hand. "I'm Dipper Pines. You?"

Esther shook it, still unsure about this guy. "I'm…" She'd never seen him before, and she knew everyone in town. There couldn't be a danger in telling him who she was. "Esther Towers. Nice to meet you, Mr. Pines."

Dipper barked a laugh. "Just Dipper, if it's all the same. Whenever I hear 'Mr. Pines,' I look for my great uncle."

"Fine," Esther said, nodding. "You're staying at the inn, right?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, I am. You too?"

"Yes. Well, uh, it was nice to meet you, Dipper, but I should head on back."

"Could I join you…?" His voice faded. He frowned, examining her face. "Have you been crying?"

Esther leaned away, trying to play it off. "What? Crying? No, I just…I have really bad allergies, so I've been sneezing a whole lot." She started walking back the way she came.

Dipper hurried to catch up. "Your face is all red, your voice is thick, and your eyes are puffy. Must be some allergy you've got."

Esther groaned. "Yeah, it kind of sucks. Thanks for noticing."

Dipper shrugged. "Sorry. Didn't mean to make a big deal out of it."

"Then just drop it," Esther snapped.

"Sure…" They walked for a while in silence. "Why were you crying?"

"Are you kidding me?" she said, walking faster.

"Sorry! You're just a _really_ terrible liar, and I'm naturally curious." Esther stopped to face him, dumbstruck. "I'm just saying that when you combine the two, it's a recipe for either disaster or conversation." He shrugged. "And you're out here all alone and it doesn't look like you're having the best time. I have to ask." Esther just looked at him, watching his stupid face squirm under her gaze. "I get my compassion from my sister, alright? She rubbed off on me."

Dipper stuck his thumbs under his pack straps and stared back at her, chewing the inside of his lip. Esther worked him, like a puzzle, trying to figure out why he cared or what he was actually doing out here. Strangers with any sense of manners don't usually ask why you're upset or call you a bad liar. _What a weirdo._

She turned away and kept walking. Maybe if she kept walking, he'd go away. "I'm just under a lot of stress right now," she began, hoping to pacify him.

"Clearly."

Ignoring him, she continued, "I haven't been home in a while and it's not what I thought it would be like at all."

Dipper followed a couple steps behind her. "Why?"

"I…It's hard to explain," she struggled. "I got homesick. Everything made me angry and nothing made me happy. I thought that coming home would fix all of that, but…" She sighed. "It didn't work out that way."

She could almost hear Dipper's wheels turning, processing what she was telling him. "How do you feel now that you're home?"

They ducked under some low hanging braches. "I don't know. It's great to be back, it really is." There was only some truth in that statement. "But everything makes me…sad." She pushed back the image of Rusty in the diner's doorframe. When Dipper didn't say anything, she continued, "But not exactly. I mean, I got here just last night, and seeing everything and everyone was so great, but by 'everyone' I mean one person who wasn't going to tell anyone I was in town—." Shoot.

Dipper frowned. "Why wouldn't you want anyone to know you were back? Don't you have family here? Friends who want to see you?"

Esther bit her lip, mulling over her emotions and the right thing to say. "Yeah, and I want to see them, too. The people here, though, can't keep to themselves, and I don't want the whole town knowing I'm back. I want to relax and stay on the down low."

Dipper nodded, tapping his chin. How many quirks did this guy have? "Sounds to me like you don't know what you want."

Esther stopped, turning to him. "How can you say that? I just _told_ you want I want!"

He pursed his lips. "Not really. You want to come back but you don't want people to _know_ you're back; you want to see everyone but you're not okay with them seeing _you_." He suddenly snapped his fingers, a light in his eye. "You want to be invisible! You want the Gravity Falls scene without Gravity Falls!"

Esther shook her head. No, that wasn't it. "I _want_ Gravity Falls!" she exploded. "I _want_ the diner and the football Friday nights and an arcade down the street! I love everything about this place!" She started walking again. "I want the afternoon bike rides and knowing everyone's name and the milkshakes and the festivals!" Her voice cracked. "And the special places in the woods that only I knew about and all the crazy stuff that happened that made for the greatest stories. And it didn't matter if anyone believed them because your friends were there, and they could come over at a moment's notice and listen to all the crap you had to tell them and never get bored or say you were overreacting. I want…I want the old days, when everything was easy."

She was sobbing by now, treading on and pretending that Dipper wasn't listening to her every word. Embarrassment burnt her ears, but she just kept walking. She was past the point of caring.

For the longest time, they walked in silence, the only sound their steps and Esther's sniffling. The sun broke through the trees and warmed the morning. The forest was clear in all directions now, gorgeous greens and burgundy stretching high and wide around them. Dipper was so quiet that, for a moment, Esther thought he went his own way, but when she glanced over her shoulder, he was still there, eyes to the ground.

Ahead, the roar of cars intermittently broke the quiet. An ill feeling filled her gut.

She stopped and rubbed her eyes, clearing away the wet and misty glaze. "I'm sorry about this," she apologized. "I'm not usually like this."

"Sounds like it was a long time in coming," said Dipper sympathetically. "I asked, anyhow, and I don't mind."

Esther couldn't help but laugh. "You're something else, you know that?"

Dipper rubbed his nose with his thumb, laughing in return. "I get that a lot…you have no idea."

"Seriously!" Esther insisted, making her way down a small slope. "What makes you care anyway? We don't know each other at all. I don't even know…wait, is your real name 'Dipper?'"

He followed after her, sure on his feet. "Believe it or not, no. It's just a nickname. I also use it for all of my books."

Esther remembered what Rory said about Dipper: that he was an author from Piedmont, California. "You really are an author then?"

Dipper nodded. "I have a couple published works. Nothing really big, but it's a start, you know?"

"Anything I would've read?" Asking that reminded her that she needed to get back into the swing of reading. She used to hammer out two or three books a week before marrying Nathan, but she didn't seem to have a lot of time nowadays.

"Depends," Dipper answered. "Ever heard of _Trickster on the Roof_?"

Esther shook her head.

"How about _The Gobblewonker_?"

She laughed aloud. "The heck?"

" _Fine Print_?"

"Never," she said. "What kind of author are you? What genre, I mean."

"Mostly I write adventure, horror, mystery," Dipper said, hurrying up to walk by her. There was an air of pride about him now, in his posture and voice. He was trying to answer nonchalantly, as if getting a book published was just an ordinary thing. "Sometimes all three, depending on the story."

The diner was clearly visible through the trees now, its parking lot sporting mostly semis and a couple of locals' bicycles. Couldn't she just live in the forest forever? "What are they about?"

Dipper lifted some pine branches out of Esther's way, letting her pass through first. "You'll have to read to find out! But I can tell you this: they're based off of true stories."

Esther took the branches from him and held them up while he passed underneath. She raised her brow. "You're kidding."

"I rarely kid," Dipper said, not a hint of jest in his voice. "I've been told that I'm not very good with jokes. I'm serious! Most of what you'll read in those books is one hundred percent truth…well, a lot of it, at least."

"Right." Esther turned so he couldn't see her roll her eyes.

"I'm serious!" he persisted. "You said yourself that crazy things happened here all the time and no one believed you!"

Wow. He really _was_ listening. She fell silent and reached the edge of the woods. All she needed was to leap the gutter and land on concrete to be back in civilization.

"I'll tell you what," Dipper continued, not waiting for an answer. "Let's swap stories, and you can decide then if I've made it all up." He jumped the gutter and landed smoothly on the sidewalk, holding out a hand to help her over.

Esther blinked. "I'm married." _Where did_ that _come from?_

Dipper stared blankly at her. "That's cool," he said flatly. "You're staying at _No Vacancy_ right? I'll be there for the rest of the day if you want to have lunch or something. I'll lend you some of my books for you to read…or use as paperweights. Your choice. Sound good?"

When it was clear that Esther wasn't going to take his hand, he pulled it back and turned for town, waving over his shoulder. "Great! See you later whether you come or not. Let's be real: it's Gravity Falls." And just like that, he was on his way into town.

Esther carefully cleared the ditch and stared after Dipper Pines. She had forgotten what it was like to be asked somewhere. In the type of relationship she had with Nathan, outings were limited to meetings, shopping, and press appearances. Was meeting with an author something she was allowed to do?

 _Stop it_ , she thought. _Nathan isn't here. You're supposed to be relaxing, not running off to cry like a child. You're allowed to meet up with a friend—acquaintance. Whatever. Besides, you need something new to read._

* * *

 **[AN]: I've always loved the idea of Dipper growing up to be an author. It seems only natural with just how much the Journals influenced him in the course of a single summer, how obsessed over them he became. What do you think?**

 **I start school again here real soon. The race to finish my summerwork is really going to slow me down, not to mention band camp starting next Monday. DON'T. WORRY. I'm not abandoning this story any time soon-I'm really excited to share it with you all!-but my life is about to get extremely hectic. I hope you understand!**

 **Thanks for reading!**

 **~~Iridian~~**


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